PREY FOR THE DEAD

The sand is soft beneath my feet.

I’m sure I’ve found a pleasant treat.

A metal door swipes across the sky,

removing the sun from the blue sky.

Trapped in a replica of my town,

I watch the sand become dark brown.

My longed-for peace won’t be won

since I’ve trusted the wrong one.

PREY FOR THE DEAD

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A FORCE WE CANNOT BEND

Waves hit the rocks

with frozen blocks.

They plow through the sand,

sharp claws in their hand.

They ravage the shore,

coming back for more.

A battle with no end.

A force we cannot bend.

BURIED IN TIME

Secrets buried in the sand hold

hidden memories of lives gone by.

Unearthed remains tell a story.

Dug up pottery paint a picture.

Lives in the past merge with the future.

Differences become insignificant.

Time becomes transient.

The cycle begins again.

Days flow into weeks.

Weeks into years.

Years to centuries.

Centuries fly by.

Nothing is new.

The cycle continues.

Our past becomes our future.

Until the sands of time bury our existence.

Then our future becomes our past.

And the cycle begins again.